


Christmas Lights

by FallacyFallacy



Series: The Annual Christmas Carol Fic [9]
Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Bittersweet, Christmas, Eichi Kanata and Chiaki referenced but not seen, Families of Choice, Friendship, Gen, Hasumi Keito POV, Lands of Magic Challenge Community, Pre-Canon, Very brief Kuro/Keito tease, War Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21828595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallacyFallacy/pseuds/FallacyFallacy
Summary: Three months after the Ryuusei Bonfire incident, Akatsuki reaches a turning point.The tale of Kanzaki Souma’s first Christmas.
Relationships: Hasumi Keito & Kanzaki Souma, Hasumi Keito & Kanzaki Souma & Kiryuu Kurou
Series: The Annual Christmas Carol Fic [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/605920
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29
Collections: Genuary 2021





	Christmas Lights

Arriving in the square, Keito takes out his list again and scans the contents. “We should be able to find most of this at the stationery store. Do you know where that is?”

Kanzaki starts to fidget. “Um, Hasumi-dono? Is that the reason we came into town?”

Keito raises a withering eyebrow. “Yes.”

“W-well, it is only that… If we are looking for materials for the stage, then I believe that my family’s store might be able to-”

“No.” Keito sighs, kneading the furrow between his eyes. “We’ll get them from the stationery store.”

Kanzaki wilts a little, but not far enough. “If you have doubts as to the quality...”

“I do not. On the contrary, I am confident that anything your family produces will be first-rate. That is exactly why we will not use it.” He purses his lips, pushing down his frustration. “You understand the purpose of our concerts, correct?”

“...yes, sir.”

“Right now, Akatsuki are the popular new upcoming unit – that puts us in a very delicate position. I allowed us some leeway to establish ourselves, but now we must firmly cool off lest we gain too much momentum. Honestly, the best thing we could do right now is release a somewhat disappointing album. That way, fine’s continued success will shine all the more by comparison.”

Kanzaki is quiet.

“Do you understand?” Keito prompts.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Keito looks over the list once more before pocketing it. “I do intend to make use of your store at some point – utilising such unique materials will be a useful way to ensure we don’t compete with fine, though we will still need to be mindful of colour contrasts and the like. However, now is not the right time.”

With a firm nod he begins to head off, but Kanzaki follows a half-step late.

He turns back irritably, ready to explain the situation again if necessary, but he isn’t watching him attentively like he usually does. Instead, he’s looking around at either side of the street.

“What are you doing?”

Kanzaki jumps. “O-oh, erm...” 

“Speak.” They’ve wasted enough time here already.

“There are many lights around,” Kanzaki explains. “And red and green banners. I wondered what the occasion was.”

Oh. Obviously.

They’re not out in full force – Keito doesn’t seen any trees, and the fat man in red seems to have not yet shown his face in the district outside of a sale sign or two. But the lines of tinsel and strings of dull fairy lights hanging outside every other storefront leave a very ominous calling card for the oppressive festive cheer soon to come.

“They’re Christmas decorations,” he says. “They’ve been going up for a couple of weeks already, even though Christmas isn’t for another month. It’s absurd.”

In tandem, just as Keito’s mood falls, Kanzaki seems to spring up.

“So _this_ is _Kurisu… marasu?_ ” Though he stumbles, he barrels on. “Yes, I have heard talk of these festivities since I was a child, though I have seen very little of it myself!”

Keito snorts. “Then that makes you one of a very rare few people in the world, Kanzaki. You should consider yourself lucky.”

Kanzaki’s eyes widen. “Why so?”

Keito sighs. Just to the left of him, a beaming white man with a curly beard encourages him to spend his hard-earned money on all-new Christmas-themed anpan, limited time only!

“Christmas is a Western holiday, of course – specifically, a Christian one. Theoretically, it is a celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, believed by Christians to be the son of God. However, as you’re no doubt aware, there are very few Christians in Japan. For that matter, Christmas is celebrated all over the world in places where Christians are uncommon. Why do you think that is?”

Kanzaki thinks and then shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

Keito gestures outwards. “Money. In Christian countries, it became a tradition to share the spirit of generosity by exchanging gifts, much like many Asian countries do with money at New Year’s. But shops can coerce people into spending far more money on them when people buy presents outright. In the West this at least has some veneer of tradition behind its craven roots. But in Japan, it’s all about consumerism right to its core. Completely soulless.”

Kanzaki is looking down at his feet. “...I see,” he says.

He disappointed him. 

Keito adjusts his glasses awkwardly, but he doesn’t really know what else to say. He’d only told the truth.

“...well, we shouldn’t get side tracked. Pay attention to where we’re going so you’ll be able to come here again yourself,” he says. Once again, Kanzaki’s step comes a moment too late, just a breath off beat.

It’s not something the leader of Akatsuki could ignore.

*

The next time they practice Kanzaki is the first to leave. Keito takes advantage of the opportunity.

“He’s still quite...reserved around us, isn’t he. Kanzaki.”

Kiryuu, half undressed, glances back at him incredulously.

“Not just reserved. Jumpy, even.”

Kiryuu snorts. It isn’t affectionate. “Yeah,” he mumbles, voice muffled as he pulls on his shirt, “I wonder _why._ ”

Keito purses his lips. “Obviously I know why. But it’s been a few months now. I would have expected some change by now.”

“Change?” Kiryuu asks sharply. Glares from him have become increasingly common lately and while they’ve never yet swayed him, it would be ridiculous to imply Kiryuu isn’t capable of being intimidating when he wants to be. Right now, he clearly does. “Why? He not good enough as he is?”

Keito looks out at the empty door but Kanzaki is long gone. Truly, Kanzaki is an almost perfect junior. He is a masterfully experienced dancer, a naturally talented singer, and any deficiencies in his performance ability are made up for by his miraculously perfect fit for this unit – all he’d have to do is walk on stage and say a few words and the audience would crow with delight at his ‘samurai act’.

Not that the audience gets to see much of that act, anyway. On stage, as off, Kanzaki is scrupulously polite, making space for Keito in the spotlight as deftly as he snaps shut his fan. A perfect servant.

“...Akatsuki might have a formal and serious image, but performances still rely heavily on good relations between those on stage. We must be able to communicate smoothly and wordlessly.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

“Do you got some kinda problem with Kanzaki’s performances?” Kiryuu asks slowly, eyes as cold as Keito’s seen them.

“No,” Keito responds immediately.

“Then what does it matter?” Kiryuu grimaces, taking up his bag with a sigh. “Just leave kid alone for God’s sake. We got no right to push him. He has some pretty fuckin’ good reasons to hate us.”

Keito watches him rummage for his phone and poke out a text message; to his sister, no doubt.

“He doesn’t, though,” Keito says. His voice comes out toneless. “Hate us.”

Kiryuu stops.

After a moment he sighs very, very heavily.

“Yeah,” Kiryuu murmurs.

The phone in Kiryuu’s hand wavers. But as he leaves the changing room, he takes it up again, tapping with great speed.

It’s quieter here, with just Keito alone. But not by a lot.

*

“Hasumi-dono, your tea.”

“Thanks.” Keito takes it gladly – the student council room is of course very well heated, but even catching a glimpse of those gloomy grey skies out the window is enough to send a phantom chill through Keito’s bones.

Kanzaki stands stick straight, his standard soldier’s parade rest. “Do you have any further tasks for me?”

Once he finishes his gulp, Keito shakes his head. “Honestly, no.” He winces. “To be honest, even I don’t have much to do right now...”

Kanzaki doesn’t quite smile but he does seem a little happier. “It’s good that there isn’t any need to overwork yourself today.”

Keito shakes his head. “No, I’d rather have the work. It isn’t that it’s all been done already, it’s that there’s no point in doing anything.”

The form he’d filled out five minutes earlier flashes before his eyes. He’s uncharacteristically reluctant to tell Kanzaki about it.

It’s absurd. Eichi was supposed to bring order to the school, but things are more chaotic now than ever.

“...are there no preparations to be made?” Kanzaki asks timidly.

“No.” He takes the form out and slides it towards him. “Same as Halloween – Christmas is cancelled this year. At Yumenosaki, anyway.”

It’s almost comical how disappointed he looks – the perfect picture of a child who’d been told what Keito just said. But this isn’t funny.

“...I see,” Kanzaki says again, just as he had in town that day. “I…suppose it does not make a great deal of difference to Akatsuki. I presume we were always intending to focus on New Year’s regardless. Given the theme of our unit and so on.”

Keito nods. “Yes. There’s no official school event for that so we can go ahead with our concert as planned.”

Kanzaki is so quiet. Sometimes he almost can’t believe this is the same boy who had talked his ear off about his hopes for the school festival.

He wonders what Kanzaki will be doing this New Year’s. They must have a shrine within that strange compound of theirs – do they go there as a family? Will he pray to Shinkai? Perhaps switch to some other god?

It’s all so absurd. He feels stupid even thinking about it.

None of this makes any sense. 

It had pained him to his core to hurt Sakuma. That was only natural – they’d known each other since they were children. There was nothing remotely one-sided about it. Over and over they had helped and supported one another and affirmed their good feelings. He may have never said the words outright, but the accumulation of those actions could equal nothing less than a solemn promise. 

He had, to put it bluntly, betrayed him. To be shadowed by guilt was only natural, and a tribulation he had willingly entered into.

But Kanzaki was different. He was just… a pawn. A ridiculous caricature, no less dangerous and selfish than the oddballs he helped to dispose, but infinitely easier to control.

Keito had never claimed to be his friend. Kanzaki had been the one to push himself onto him – Keito had simply given up preventing him from doing so. Why should Keito bear responsibility for his unbelievably poor judgement?

And yet. He cannot simply grasp childishly at the way things _should_ be. He must face reality as it stands.

The truth is this: Sakuma can take care of himself. He’s shrewd, perceptive, and capable of being downright ruthless when the situation calls for it. He has Oogami. He has the other oddballs. He has his brother.

Kanzaki left behind his family to become an idol and bring joy to people. Then, he left behind his classmates to join Akatsuki and willingly endure the scorn of that same public. Finally, he left behind – lost? Was taken forcefully from? - his god.

Sakuma has the world at his fingertips. Kanzaki only has him.

Keito doesn’t mind being hated. It’d be perverse to call it enjoyable, but there’s something _thrilling_ about feeling the full force of another will against yours, neither holding back a single ounce. Perhaps it’s a survival instinct that fills him with such fire, ready to fight back using every means his meagre talent can provide him.

For a moment, it had seemed like Kanzaki hated him. Keito could take that.

He didn’t expect him to crumble.

Relationships might be restored. But somewhere, deep down, Keito wonders if he’s taken something from Kanzaki that can’t ever be replaced.

“...you’re fond of festivals, aren’t you?”

Kanzaki blinks. It takes him a few moments to process the change in subject.

“Um… yes, Hasumi-dono.”

“Why is that?” Kanzaki hesitates. “I’m not correcting you. I genuinely want to hear your answer.”

Kanzaki’s expression shifts from uncertain to pondering. “Festivals...” he starts distantly, “are taken quite seriously by my family. They are a time when everyone gathers together to celebrate. Naturally, we are quite close-knit in general. But at festivals, we all join our efforts in an attempt to create something joyful.” Finally, he smiles. “There is an energy in the air – we are all feeling the same way, in unison. And the traditions themselves connect us to our ancestors in the distant past. But they are no solemn affairs, either. At festivals, we may enjoy the simple pleasures, partaking in the fruits of the harvest and appreciating the beauty of the new season. There are always so many unique things to do that can only be seen at that time of the year – festivals are an opportunity to relish them to our heart’s delight for as long as we can!”

He pauses, then chuckles dryly. “Well… the truth is that I am rarely able to walk around during the peak of these activities as I always help to set up and usually perform onstage. But being a part of it that way is very fun as well! The knowledge that you are able to bring such joy to other people around you…there is really nothing like it!”

That’s what idols are supposed to do – make other people smile.

If Kanzaki’s remembering those words, he isn’t showing it. He looks happier than Keito’s seen from him in a long time.

Biting his lip, Keito takes out his scheduler. With Starfes cancelled before they could even begin preparing, December is looking very free for him.

“...does that help?” Kanzaki asks.

Keito adjusts his glasses. “Is December 20th free for you?”

Kanzaki stares. “I...w-well, of course I am prepared to devote all of my efforts towards the end of the year into rehearsals for our New Year’s concert. But I don’t believe we have scheduled any practice that far off yet…?”

“Good. Then please keep it so. You, Kiryuu, and I shall travel to into town and see the lights there once they’re fully out.”

His eyes widen. “...of course, Hasumi-dono. But, why…?”

Repeating the line about their performances would be mean. But Keito can’t really think of any other practical reason.

After a few moments he gives up. “I simply believe it is a good idea.”

Kanzaki doesn’t understand. But after a moment, he nods.

“Yes, sir.”

Just imagining all of those bright colours and repetitive foreign songs is giving Keito a headache. But it’s better than a pit in his stomach.

*

Keito arrives at school first, grumbling internally at his own promptness when the cold wind cuts at his cheeks. It’s always a little surreal seeing the school when there aren’t any students about, even if he sees it this way more often than most, but there’s something especially grey about its dull blankness amidst the overcast skies. The absence of decorations shouldn’t make such a difference – it usually looks this way through January and February anyway. But Keito can’t help an itch of chagrin overtake him. The details are irrelevant: the lack of festivities are the result of the student council’s failure.

It’s a bitter thought, but one he must swallow. No matter how hard he works, he is not all-powerful. There is no point in wishing things were different. He can only play with the cards he has been dealt.

Surprisingly, Kiryuu arrives first. Keito tenses; he’d received some pointed looks when he’d first suggested the outing to him but Kiryuu hadn’t outright asked after his motivation. Keito is no more prepared to answer him now.

“Yo.”

“Good afternoon. Did you prepare the route for today as I asked?”

Kiryuu snorts. “Straight to the point as always, huh. Yeah, I did. Though I gotta say, I don’t really think this is the kinda thing that needs an itinerary.”

“Nonsense – I can barely turn my head without being assaulted with posters announcing one event or another. And I am unfamiliar with this form of entertainment...if it can be considered that.”

“Danna, when ya go to festivals, do ya plan out which stalls to visit and when?”

When it comes to traditional festivals, no, he generally does not. However, like Kanzaki, he’s typically too busy organising to walk around much himself. 

On the other hand, this year had been his first time visiting Comiket without running a stall of his own, and while that had certainly been a disappointment (not only to him, but to all of Mizuhanome-sensei’s fans), it had been very satisfying to plan out his path of attack from the moment he entered the hall into the afternoon. He had returned home with an extremely valuable assortment of doujinshi, only narrowly missing out on two circles who he had never rated particularly highly anyway.

“No,” he thinks aloud, “although it’s not a bad idea. By looking up the stalls ahead of time, I will be able to better appreciate the work behind each one, and maximise the efficiency of my path so I may see as much as possible before becoming tired.”

Kiryuu groans. “Yeah, forget I said anything.”

“Hasumi-dono! Kiryuu-dono!”

Keito turns with relief but as soon as he catches sight of Kanzaki he stares.

“...Kanzaki,” Kiryuu responds, clearly just as surprisef as Keito is.

“Yes, hello!” Kanzaki stops in front of them promptly. “Hasumi-dono? Is something wrong?”

“You look normal,” Keito says.

Kiryuu chuckles wryly; Kanzaki looks down at himself.

Keito honestly hadn’t realised until this moment that he’d never actually seen Kanzaki in casual clothing before. He’d assumed – and he refuses to feel stupid for this because Kanzaki had given him no reason to think otherwise – that he wore Japanese clothing whenever he wasn’t in a uniform.

Instead, he finds him in jeans, a sweater, and a navy blue jacket. Hair and sword aside, he might just look more like a typical high schooler than Keito does.

Kanzaki frowns. “We are going to a festival, are we not? Therefore, it is appropriate to wear traditional attire.”

“Mm, well...” Kiryuu looks amused. “I wouldn’t really call that traditional, but it’s perfectly fair. Just kind of a shock to see ya like that. Didn’t think ya even wore stuff like that.”

“Only when I go out, generally… so I’m still somewhat unfamiliar with this fashion.” He purses his lips. “Does it look strange? Too modern?”

“It’s fine,” Keito says. “We’re in Japan – there is no traditional Christmas wear.”

“Ya know, I’m not sure about that.” Kiryuu slaps him on the shoulder. “C’mon, let’s get ya a scarf. Somethin’ with red and green stripes. Festive as hell!”

Kanzaki smiles; Keito feels ever so slightly less tense. “Thank you very much!”

As they walk, Kanzaki chatters.

“I had noticed that red and green appeared to be the auspicious colours,” he says. “Do either of you know what they symbolise? I assume the red is for camellia flowers…?”

Keito honestly doesn’t know but thankfully Kiryuu takes over.

“Nah, I don’t think it’s for that. There’s some kinda other flower they like – poinsettias or somethin’? But I dunno if that’s the reason either. Pretty sure the green is for pine trees, though. Since they keep their leaves during the winter.”

“How fascinating!” Kanzaki chuckles. “Despite Hasumi-dono’s objections to the holiday, it seems _Kurismasu_ is well suited to him.”

“What?” Keito raises an eyebrow.

Kanzaki explains: “the green matches your image colour, and the red matches Akatsuki.”

“...I suppose so,” Keito mutters with reluctance as Kiryuu laughs.

Kanzaki claps his hands together eagerly. “Oh – and it is also an appropriate holiday for Hasumi-dono and Kiryuu-dono together!” 

“W-what?” Keito responds instinctively, heart skipping a beat.

“Since Kiryuu-dono’s image colour is red,” Kanzaki says, the picture of innocence.

Right. Obviously.

Kiryuu is still laughing but he looks like he’s wincing a little. “Ah, yeah,” he says. “Guess so, huh.”

“Though...” Kanzaki frowns. “When I think on it, I cannot come up with many holidays for which purple is a thematic colour...”

“Mm, well,” Kiryuu responds, “there’s a reason for that, ya know? Purple dye used to be hella hard to get a hold of. S’why it’s associated with nobility around the world.”

“Ah, yes - that’s right!” Kanzaki says, good mood returned.

“I guess that makes ya somethin’ special, then. Too good for us peasants.”

Kanzaki shakes his head vehemently, looking suddenly alarmed. “Please – do not refer to yourself as such. I am not in any way superior to you. Quite the contrary – you are my seniors.”

The wind feels just a little colder again.

Kiryuu’s mouth opens and closes. “A-… ahh, well...” But he trails off.

They walk on in silence.

It’s awkward. Resignation bites at Keito – of course this was a bad idea. Kanzaki would have been much better off if left well alone.

After several long moments, Kanzaki coughs.

“Um… please tell me if I begin to talk too much. I don’t wish to be a bother.”

Keito purses his lips. “I have said as much to you on many occasions. If the need arises, I will do so again.”

Kiryuu’s eyes narrow at him but Kanzaki, as expected, relaxes.

“Yes, sir.”

It takes a little while to get to the main street from school, during which time their scenery is comprised primarily of blocky apartment buildings. To Keito’s dismay, while most are appropriately bare, some display their own decorations.

Kanzaki must think he’s being subtle when he glances at them each time they pass.

“Do you have any questions?” Keito asks.

Kanzaki jumps. “Hm?! Hmm, well...”

“Go ahead,” Kiryuu adds. “I ain’t exactly an expert, but we always used t’ make a big deal of Christmas back home, so I can explain a few things for ya.”

Kanzaki squirms. But his curiosity wins out. “The man in the red outfit – I believe he is called Santa-dono…?”

“...well, most of ‘em say ‘Santa-san’, but yeah.”

“Who is he?”

This much Keito knows. “He’s the one who distributes presents to children on Christmas Eve. Naturally, you’ll see his face displayed very prominently all through the shopping district.”

“I see! He sounds like a very generous man.”

Something in Keito rings out, distantly, in concern.

“Yep,” Kiryuu says. “Kids write letters with what they wanna get, and on Christmas Eve they leave out milk an’ cookies. If they’re good, Santa flies over an’ leaves ‘em presents under the tree.”

“How interesting.” But Kanzaki seems strangely thoughtful. “However, I’m a little confused… I was under the impression that Christians worshipped just one god…?”

Keito’s mental alarm bells are ringing very loudly.

“He’s not real,” he blurts out.

Kanzaki and Kiryuu are staring at him.

“It’s...” He straightens. “It’s just a story adults tell children. He doesn’t actually exist.”

Kanzaki frowns. For a long moment, Keito is totally convinced that he’s just embarrassed himself entirely.

“...is that so,” Kanzaki says finally, bearing a frown. “Though, it makes sense to me...”

_He did believe it…_

“Well, ahh...” Kiryuu scratches his head awkwardly. “Santa ain’t really a God or a spirit or anything? He’s just, like, a person. With magic.”

Keito glares at him very emphatically; Kiryuu is already wincing.

To his immense relief, Kanzaki simply nods. “I suppose it is like a folk tale. Perhaps children are told it to encourage proper worship of the Christian god.”

“M-mm. That seems likely,” Keito agrees. “...though that does only strengthen my opinion that these traditions are entirely inappropriate in a Japanese setting.”

Kanzaki’s eyes flutter. Keito is absolutely certain he disagrees.

“...perhaps,” is all he says.

Kiryuu is scratching his head again; it’s a very visible nervous habit. “But, ahh, kids really do believe all that stuff, though. My sis used t’ stay up late into the night just in case she could see him come over!”

“Did you ever join her, Kiryuu-dono?” Kanazaki asks.

Kiryuu squints. “Erm...maybe. But when I was really little though, y’know?!”

Kanzaki chuckles, his earlier guard now dropped. “That is a rather charming image – a young Kiryuu-dono peering eagerly out of his bedroom window…!”

“Hey...” Kiryuu mutters, cheeks a bit pink. “You don’t gotta imagine somethin’ embarrassing like that...”

They come up to convenience store so covered in paraphernalia the window is almost opaque. Kiryuu raises his hand immediately, seemingly relieved to change the subject. 

“Should be able to find ya a scarf in here! And maybe some gloves, too…?”

“Oh, no gloves, thank you – I must remain able to smoothly grip my sword at a moment’s notice at all times.”

Keito grumbles, “I can’t for the life of me work out what you intend to use it for today, though… If you stab Santa Claus, you’ll make children cry.”

Kanzaki pouts. “I have no intention of harming such a kindly old man! I dispense justice, Hasumi-dono – I am not some crossroads killer.”

Still, Kanzaki follows Kiryuu in, gravitating immediately to the gift aisle.

“It seems deer are important as well,” he observes, picking up a small stuffed keychain and turning it over with a chuckle. “They are quite cute.”

“Reindeer, to be technical,” Keito says.

“Yeah,” Kiryuu adds over his shoulder. “They pull Santa’s sleigh so he can fly around, according to the story.”

“Is that so? They must be very diligent creatures.” He seems quite pleased with them. As Keito had expected, he seems to be fond of animals in general.

However, as he looks over the toys he eventually frowns.

“But some of these look different...” He holds one up for Keito to see, eyes wide in confusion. “Its nose is big and red. Is he a clown?”

Keito snorts before he can stop himself. 

Kanzaki shoots him such a wounded look that Keito almost laughs again.

“Uh, no,” Kiryuu says, lips twitching tellingly. “Nah, that’s Rudolph.”

“Is he a very important reindeer?”

“The most important – Christmas couldn’t go on without him.”

“Why is that?”

Keito actually can’t quite remember. “Hm. There is a song about it, but...”

Kiryuu nods amiably. “Yeah, my sis used to love it. Lesse, to sum it up… so like, Santa flies around ‘cause of the reindeer like I said, right? ‘Sept one year, this new one is born, but he’s a total freak. Huge red nose that won’t quit glowin’ like a lightbulb.”

Kanzaki’s eyes are wide. “Was he ill?”

“Nah – it’s just the way he is. Anyway, ‘cause he looked so weird, all’a the other guys sorta picked on him, y’know? Like, ‘we don’t wanna play with an ugly bastard like you!’ kinda stuff, I guess.”

“This is a very sad story...” Kanzaki murmurs.

“But here’s the thing: one year, Santa’s all out and ready to get goin’, but guess what? It’s storming like hell outside – can’t see a damn thing. Seems like Christmas is gonna hafta be cancelled. But what do ya know, there’s Rudolph – with his big ol’ bright nose like a lamp, Santa can see where he’s goin’! And ever since, the other reindeer decided he wasn’t so bad and he got super popular.”

Kanzaki’s hand is pressed tightly to his chest. “That is a very happy ending! I am extremely pleased _Ruudorufu_ -dono was able to be of help to everyone in the end.”

But Kiryuu is frowning down at the little plush toys with a clouded expression. “...I dunno, actually,” he says. “I never really thought about it as a kid, but… don’t the reindeer kinda seem like total dicks? It’s not like Rudolph ever did anything wrong. They just totally judged him, solely ‘cause of how he looked...”

Kanzaki hums sympathetically. “It would have been nicer if the others had noticed _Ruudorufu_ -dono’s strengths sooner.”

Keito frowns. “Calling them ‘dicks’ is one thing, but I’d say they’re more stupid. Up in the Arctic, storms should be commonplace. How on earth did they not anticipate that a blizzard might cause them problems? Rudolph should have been seen as a valuable asset from the beginning.”

Kiryuu sighs. “All right, I think we’re maybe overthinkin’ this now...”

“In fact, I’m shocked that such blizzards weren’t a regular occurrence. How did they deal with them before Rudolph arrived? It’s all entirely absurd.”

“ _Danna?_ It’s a kids’ story.”

Keito grumbles a little more under his breath but Kiryuu ignores him.

“Anyway...” he passes over to Kanzaki a thickly woven scarf of dark green and red plaid. “Here – don’t worry about payin’, I already bought it while you were lookin’ around over here.”

Kanzaki gasps. “Kiryuu-dono, it truly is no trouble, I cannot-”

“Just accept it, for cryin’ out loud. Take it as a Christmas present from Hasumi and I.”

Keito meets his eye; Kiryuu looks challenging, but there’s not much Keito can do now.

He sighs, relenting. “...yes, please do so.”

Kanzaki’s eyes are very wide. After a moment, he nods. “Yes, sir.” When he reaches for the scarf, he’s already smiling.

He winds it around his neck carefully. It looks, Keito thinks, very warm.

When it is arranged loosely, Kanzaki places his hands against the soft wool, fingers splayed over the interlocking crosses. His eyes are impossibly gentle.

“Red and green…” he murmurs. “...thank you, from the depths of my heart. I will think of you both whenever I wear it.”

It’s hard for Keito to swallow. He feels choked, suddenly, and then frighteningly vulnerable among the fluorescent lights and tinny music of this convenience store.

His barriers go up instantly.

“Well, we’ve spent more than enough time in this place. We should get moving before it gets too dark.”

Kiryuu doesn’t say anything. After a moment he follows, shoulders stiff.

Keito doesn’t need to look at Kanzaki to know what face he’s making. So, he doesn’t.

He tries to put it out of his mind, but as they trudge through the streets, the dark thoughts claw back at him over and over. The growing twilight does nothing to distract him from his worries and the flickering lights merely pierce into him, hurting his eyes.

This is exactly why he hadn’t wanted to be nice to him.

Kanzaki was supposed to be a pawn, but from the very beginning, he’d been more like a dog – hardworking, obnoxiously enthusiastic, and stupidly loyal. But even then, he’d thought he had his limits. It was like a scene from some interminable kid’s movie – Keito, doing everything he could to convince this brainlessly dedicated animal to _leave him_ already for his own damn good.

And yet here he was, despite it all – the picture of a perfect servant.

Had he really broken him that badly? Was he this starved for even basic kindness? Was he so far out of touch with reality that he couldn’t tell an enemy from a friend?

Kanzaki walks in lockstep behind him. He doesn’t ask any questions, but nor does he seem nervous, or tired, or scared. For the first time in a long while, Keito thinks he looks _satisfied._

Keito is no stranger to regret lately. He hates it, a useless and unproductive emotion – there can be no changing the past. Usually, he’s able to set it aside cleanly and focus on what he’s currently capable of doing. But around Kanzaki, it’s never too far behind.

He shouldn’t have been nice to him. He shouldn’t have hurt him.

As they approach the shopping district and the end of their journey, it pangs again. In spite of his pessimism, walking around with Kiryuu and Kanzaki had been nice. In another world, maybe they could have done this more than once.

“There are so many people around...” Kanzaki murmurs. “Even though it’s still a few days until _Kurismasu._ ”

“Mm, it’s a pretty popular holiday,” Kiryuu says.

Kanzaki pushes his nose into his scarf. “Even though it’s so cold in the evenings like this...”

“Evening’s the best time for it – ya get to see the place all lit up!”

“It is indeed very beautiful!” Kanzaki smiles. “All of these small pinprick lights gathered together… it reminds me of lanterns floating down a stream.”

Keito frowns, hackles raised. “Latern-crafting has been practised as an art for hundreds of years as a way of honouring our ancestors. These shoddy plastic bulbs cannot compare to that legacy.”

Kanzaki flinches. “A-apologies – I meant no offence.”

“ _Danna,_ they look nice.” Kiryuu is rolling his eyes. “Yer overthinking it again.”

He doesn’t like seeing Kanzaki jumpy again. He opens his mouth to defend himself but, with difficulty, resists.

“...visually speaking, I suppose I can admit they have some appeal,” he says half-heartedly.

It’s all so extravagant. Lamps are tied with red ribbons and decked with large golden bells. Life-sized figures of snowmen linger outside stores beside cut-outs of snowflakes, all the more conspicuous given the total lack of real frost anywhere to be seen. And here, it’s impossible to ignore the music; every hundred metres Keito can hear a new version of ‘Last Christmas’ blaring out moodily from either side.

“I keep hearing this song,” Kanzaki muses aloud. “I wonder what it’s about?”

“...it ain’t really important,” Kiryuu says lightly.

“Well! At any rate, I thank you again for bringing me here,” Kanzaki says. “The town has been delightful!”

Kiryuu pats his shoulder. “Hey, we’re not done yet. We still gotta see the tree!”

Kanzaki frowns. “There have been many trees around, though…?”

“Not like this one.”

Their feet clatter over the stone path. Kanzaki turns towards Keito in confusion just as they pass through the last entranceway into the square. While Keito watches Kanzaki pauses, eyes travelling towards the centre, and an expression of utter awe overtakes him.

He steps forward slowly, ahead of his seniors, but Keito can still see his profile. It’s bathed in the glow of the centrepiece before them, gold and red and blue and silver playing over his cheeks like rainbows.

“It’s...” he breathes, “beautiful.”

Keito’s breath catches.

He tears his eyes away and follows Kanzaki’s gaze. But it looks exactly as he expected. A dead plant covered in cheap plastic, dotted with cartoon characters to encourage impressionable children to tug at their parents’ sleeves. He can imagine the poor employee up on a ladder in this miserable weather dully hanging up ugly ornaments for minimum wage. It’s the picture of empty consumerism.

Kanzaki is transfixed. 

He doesn’t understand how he does this, Keito thinks, and it’s this thought that wrenches something deep within his chest. He doesn’t know how he sees such beauty in everything he looks at.

Keito doesn’t think he can do that.

It’s utterly absurd. Is he a child, gurgling happily while a parent jangles their keys? Keito doesn’t want to be distracted from the truth. Ugliness is ugliness.

And right now, he has never felt uglier.

“It reminds me...” Kanzaki murmurs. “...of something. From my childhood.”

Kiryuu responds quicker; Keito finds he can’t speak. “Oh? Have ya been here once before after all?”

Kanzaki shakes his head. “No – I’ve never seen a tree like this at all. This was something different.”

Keito realises with a start that Kanzaki’s eyes are watering; it’s hard for him to swallow.

“Once… I was very little – before my younger brother was born. I was training as usual, but for some reason I didn’t feel like it that day. I threw something of a tantrum - ‘I want to play outside like the other kids!’… something like that.”

Kanzaki chuckles. It doesn’t sound very funny to Keito.

“I thought my father would scold me. I was so scared I had disappointed him. But my mother came, and they took me out of the house. Together, we went out, and began to climb a mountain.”

“A mountain?” Kiryuu repeats, confused.

Kanzaki just nods. “Yes. They held my hand the whole way. And when we got to the top...” He pauses, then smiles shakily. “We could see… the entire valley. And it was _covered_ in lights.”

Kanzaki’s eyes roam around the tree, from the brightly-wrapped empty boxes at the base to the ridiculous winged figure smiling vapidly at the top.

“Lantern lights, candle lights, cooking fires… each giving off its own warmth and brightness. Each lit by one person, allowing them to see their way and cook for their family. From where I stood they were so small. But put together, they shone like stars.”

His scarf rustles; Kanzaki dabs at his eyes.

“On that day, they showed me that sight and calmed my scattered heart. Today, I wish I could show them this. If they could see it… I’m sure they’d be able to understand why I want to be an idol!”

It’s Kiryuu who steps forward, leaving a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“They’ll definitely get it someday. I promise ya.”

He feels rotten. There’s something dark and terrible in Keito, eating away at his insides. It’s regret, booming like a drum and rattling his teeth. But there’s also something tired and wretched and envious.

He hadn’t realised until today how depressed he’s been.

Walking around with Kiryuu and Kanzaki had been more than nice. It had made him feel like a _person._

He’d told himself he was okay with being hated. He had believed he could cut ties with Sakuma if it was truly necessary. As long as he could approach Eichi and tell him truthfully that his will was being carried out, he wouldn’t need any more. Bringing about his dream before he passed on was a more noble pursuit than any other Keito could ever hope to achieve.

But, of course he wanted to bring smiles and joy to people. Of course he wanted to be happy, too.

Didn’t everybody?

Softly, almost so quietly Keito couldn’t make out the words, Kanzaki whispers: “I wish Buchou-dono could see this.”

Kiryuu’s hand at Kanzaki’s shoulder grips too, too tight. Keito sees him sigh from deep within his lungs.

“...Morisawa’s takin’ good care of him,” he says.

Kanzaki’s eyelashes flutter. In one instant, the watery eyes take on a different tone. For the first time, Keito sees a glimpse of something he can recognise – the exact emotions, in fact, that are storming within himself right now.

The ability to make others happy is a privilege not afforded to all.

He’s known that all along, but until now he had not fully appreciated how much he needed this.

Is that why Kanzaki’s path so crossed with his? Was this look of reverence its own divine harmony that Keito has been too proud to notice?

He wants to be kind to him. He wants to see Kanzaki smiling every day. He wants to feel even a little of that happiness.

He’s so tired of being himself.

“So.” Kiryuu’s voice, stable as always, breaks through his reverie. “Let’s go get somethin’ to eat. Ya gotta try some of the cake at least.”

Kanzaki perks instantly. “ _Kurisumasu keeki?_ I saw a great many windows advertising that!”

“It’s not any different from ordinary cake,” Keito says instinctively; when he hears himself he halts, shaking his head. He doesn’t want to talk like that. Not now. “But… it’s worth trying for the novelty alone, I suppose.”

“Then please,” Kanzaki says, “Lead the way, Kiryuu-dono!”

The square is dotted with fashionable cafes but Kiryuu takes them directly to one in particular – his sister went there once and raved about it, apparently, though it doesn’t look like anything special to Keito.

“Damn, kind of a line-up...” Kiryuu mutters before staring directly into the store next door. “Whoa, wait a minute – this is the place that sells those German cookie things?!” He turns excitedly back to the others. “My sis has been looking for these for ages but they’re always sold out! You guys go ahead of me for a sec, I need to get a bag...”

“It’s no trouble at all to come with you,” Kanzaki begins but Kiryuu waves him off.

“Nah, you’ll just be waiting in line anyway. Save me a place.”

Kanzaki looks to him questioningly. Keito nods, though the prospect of being alone with Kanzaki right now only strengthens his unease.

Still, as before with the scarf, what had unsettled Keito so deeply seems only to have soothed Kanzaki. He looks around the cheery cafe with pleasure, for all the world as though he belongs here.

“It looks very modern,” Kanzaki notes with approval at the polished wood panelling.

Keito shakes his head. “And yet the music is still right out of the _showa_ era...”

“Truly?” Kanzaki’s eyes widen. “To still be so popular this many decades into the future is an incredibly impressive feat…!”

Keito hadn’t thought of it like that. He grunts. “Perhaps.”

Kanzaki’s eyes shine. “Ahh, how lovely would it be if one of Akatsuki’s songs could reach so many people…?”

They won’t. 

He must correct him – if Kanzaki still doesn’t understand it will only cause even more problems for him later on. But Keito doesn’t respond.

“...obviously I am aware that we are not currently aiming for that,” Kanzaki eventually says softly.

Keito nods. “Good.”

“But...” He sighs but Kanzaki continues on. “Perhaps, once you are satisfied with the student council’s position...”

He’s right – Akatsuki was never intended to serve as a permanent fixture by fine’s side. Once Eichi has achieved his goals and rehabilitated Yumenosaki Academy, there will be no longer any need for it.

He doesn’t know what he’ll do then. It has always seemed as far off as Eichi’s passing – always on the horizon, but never quite here.

He closes his eyes.

“We can create wonderful things,” Kanzaki continues, and there’s that edge in his voice that Keito has seen him collect and release so many times before. Now, he takes a firm grip on it, eyes sparking. “You and Kiryuu-dono are _incredibly_ talented. Akatsuki could make people’s lives better…!”

“Kanzaki,” he says warningly.

“Uh – wait a minute, aren’t you guys… the ones from that Yumenosaki group? Akatsuki?”

Keito blinks; the queue ahead of them having dispersed, the woman behind the counter is staring at him just as incredulously as he’s staring at her.

“We are,” Kanzaki says, and Keito feels suddenly very nervous about the confidence with which he speaks.

His fears are confirmed a moment later. The woman purses her lips, eyes darkening even as she turns back to her computer. Keito glares at her, silently begging her not to speak, but she’s avoiding his eyes.

“So, you guys are going legit now, huh.” Kanzaki frowns back at Keito, clearly confused by the slang. Keito does not explain it. “I guess that’s a good thing.”

“We’d like a table for three,” Keito says, as frostily as he can manage.

But his coldness only seems to inflame her; when she meets his eyes, her expression is defiant.

“Just know that it doesn’t make up for what you’ve done,” she says with feeling. “I know some people will forgive everything just because you write a nice song or two. But the units you stepped on to get here won’t be the only ones who remember.”

Keito is about ready to murder her.

“Whoa, hey!” Kiryuu’s voice booms, his presence incapable of being ignored as he pushes forward to the front of the line. “We got a table already?”

Keito takes no little shameful satisfaction in how quickly the woman’s expression shifts to one of genuine alarm.

“We’re just ordering,” Keito says very deliberately.

“Um, just a moment,” the woman replies hastily and taps quickly at her computer.

Kiryuu raises an eyebrow; Keito shakes his head.

Kanzaki is quiet.

While they retrieve their cake slices and make their way to the table, Keito frowns. He has no right to complain about such treatment – hadn’t it been Akatsuki’s original purpose to take on the public’s disdain in fine’s place? But when that scorn is aimed at Kanzaki he can’t help but bristle.

It shouldn’t bother him either way. Akatsuki might play the villain, but it is entirely a facade – an unfortunate sacrifice for a better future. The world might not understand the good they’re doing but that does not render it evil.

Yet…somehow it unsettles him now more than ever before.

“Ahh – it looks great, huh?” Kiryuu says loudly with an encouraging smile Kanzaki’s way. “Shall we dig in?”

But Kanzaki is still strangely unreadable.

“...in just one moment, Kiryuu-dono,” Kanzaki says after a pause, hands folded over his lap. “Hasumi-dono… may I ask you a question?”

Keito starts, suddenly anxious.

“Of course,” he says.

Kanzaki stares down at his cake. With its bright white icing, single red strawberry, and little snowflake decoration, it truly does look just the same as any other cake Keito could find on this street.

“Did you...” Kanzaki pauses, then regains his strength. “Did you take me here today to cheer me up?”

Kiryuu’s eyes widen; Keito can only stare straight ahead.

It takes him a few moments to find the words.

He can’t ignore the comparison to Kanzaki’s parents, even if he’d been entirely unfamiliar with that story when he make this decision. He rejects that, deeply, viscerally – he barely knows how to treat a junior let alone a metaphorical son. 

It feels irresponsible in the greatest degree to promise him anything. Over and over, Keito has failed. The Student Council has failed. Only his faith in Eichi has kept him this far, in the hope that the future he dreams of cannot be too far off.

Today has been impossibly disorienting. Once again, his attempts to create order have only made things more disordered than ever.

But his revelation from earlier rings inside him like the largest, deepest bell. The opportunity to make others smile is a gift. For once, he wants to just _take it._

“Yes,” he says.

Kanzaki’s eyes widen in surprise. He senses Kiryuu shift as well, but he’s only looking at one thing.

“I knew you were disappointed to miss out on Starfes and I hoped this might make up for that.”

Slowly, genuinely, Kanzaki smiles.

“That’s why I came too,” Kiryuu adds. He glances at Keito, eyes kind. “Course, it was _Danna’s_ idea. But I was hopin’ to see you cheer up a bit, too.”

“Thank you very much,” Kanzaki says earnestly. He smiles so wide his eyes flutter closed. “I am exceedingly grateful to you both!”

Ah. Once again, Keito’s chest is tight. But this time, he doesn’t feel rotten. 

He feels very, very warm.

“And, um...” Kanzaki continues; Keito braces himself, but he’s actually looking at Kiryuu. “I also must thank you, Kiryuu-dono, for accompanying us today. It was an unexpected pleasure to get to see so much of you…!”

Kiryuu winces visibly, though as usual Kanzaki’s expression doesn’t budge. “Ah… yeah.” After a moment of tension his shoulders droop. “Sorry about that. I guess, for a while I kinda thought it’d be easier on ya if ya didn’t get too attached to me or somethin’...”

Kanzaki’s brow furrows in concern. “That sounds like a very lonely position to be in.”

“Nah, I’m fine.” Kiryuu waves his hand airily and shrugs. “I got my sis – that’s all I need.”

Kanzaki purses his lips. Keito isn’t sure whether or not he’ll disagree, but he certainly doesn’t expect what he says next.

“Earlier, you mentioned Morisawa-dono,” he points out.

Kiryuu blinks, clearly startled. “Huh? Ahh… I guess I did, huh.” He frowns thoughtfully for a few moments. Eventually he sighs, smiling wryly in defeat. “Yeah, well. He never listened when I told him to buzz off, either.”

Kanzaki beams. Kiryuu snorts, shaking his head.

“Now are ya gonna eat your cake or what?”

“Right!” Kanzaki agrees, taking up his fork and covering his scarf with a protective hand as he bites down. “Mmf, Hasumi-dono, Kiryuu-dono!”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full,” Keito scolds him.

Kanzaki obediently swallows. “It’s delicious!”

Kiryuu chuckles. “What did I tell ya?”

“The cake is so light and fluffy,” Kanzaki gushes. “And the icing is bursting with vanilla flavour…!” He takes another bite, sighing with pleasure. “What an exceptionally well-made cake!”

“I’ll tell my sis you enjoyed it.”

“But...” Kanzaki pauses thoughtfully. “Truthfully, I don’t think it’s only the quality that makes it so tasty. The circumstances, surely, have sweetened it more than anything else.” He chuckles. “Perhaps that is the true joy of festivals…?”

Kiryuu nods. “Yeah. I think you might just be right.”

Outside, the sun has truly set, though among the bustle of the city it cannot be called dark. And there, just as Keito watches, he sees something unexpected – in the path of a streetlight sparkles little flakes of snow, the first fall of the year.

All right, he admits. That sight is rather pretty.

Sitting here in a crowded cafe, their little trio feels as fragile as any snowflake. Three students brought together under the worst of circumstances to crush dreams beneath their feet and disappear into the dust – a fraud barely held together by the most transparent of smiles.

But Kanzaki had cared about it. Not merely him or Kiryuu, but about _Akatsuki,_ as brutal and terrible and disposable as it was. And just as the gift of a hat and scarf had brought a snowman to life, so had that caring transformed Akatsuki into something real, too.

“Hey, _Danna_ – if you’re not gonna eat that, I will.”

Keito sighs. “I was merely lost in thought momentarily. Honestly, can you not be patient for two minutes?”

No matter how much he grumbles, Kiryuu and Kanzaki’s joy doesn’t fade.

The cake is decent; Keito has never been especially fond of sweets.

But Kanzaki is right. He’d rather be here, eating this, than anywhere else in the world.

He knows he’s being sentimental. A Christmas miracle, he thinks wryly. But he was moved by no colourful lights. There was something much more beautiful here today. He can only hope it will not disappear with the new year.

He is not all-powerful. But Akatsuki rests snug and soft within his hands. And that is something worth protecting.

**Author's Note:**

> * Written for Lands of Magic for the prompt ['Merry and Bright.'](https://lands-of-magic.dreamwidth.org/209868.html)  
> * As is tradition, this fic is titled after a Christmas carol - in this case, [Christmas Lights by Coldplay.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z1rYmzQ8C9Q)  
> * The story Souma tells about his childhood comes from the event _Summer Nights Fes._  
>  * ['Last Christmas' really is that popular in Japan.](https://youtu.be/ixpi0bnD0lQ?t=62)
> 
> If you also enjoy crying over Kanzaki Souma at all times, please follow me on twitter [@kanasous](https://twitter.com/KanaSous)!


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